Monday, March 23, 2009

Apparently my doctor thinks I'm a street dealer.

I could see it in his eyes while he talked about the street value of Xanax, about why he didn't like to prescribe it, and why he was only giving me 30 of them.

And the only argument I could make was "but it makes me feel better."

What it boils down to is that the doctor believes my blood pressure fluctuates so much (yesterday it was 115/78; today in his office it was 160/100) because I suffer from "situational stress," a condition that would probably go away if I would just agree to take a Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor. In other words, an anti-depressant, which I swore I would never take again.

What I really need is to not have a job, but money, and lots of chickens and horses and time for art. And then I wouldn't need a doctor or Xanax at all.

That's how life was meant to be. I feel as if I've spent half of mine doing all the things I don't want to do.

This is why we're going on an Adventure. Disconnect from society.I want to just get away from it all and sort of not plan anything... just be out there, almost homeless-like if you will, except we have a car and lots of gas and are going to Montana where all the while we can pitch a tent on the side of the road when we get tired, eat out of garbage cans when we get hungry, take baths in a truckstop sink if we feel like it, for 11 glorious days. And also we'll be homeless people who like to backpack on mountains. I can't wait to unplug... well, not COMPLETELY unplug. I still want my GPS and Facebook, know what I mean?